A lazy homebound Sunday Afternoon, Amitabh Bachchan and Rakhi Sawant

You don’t have much to do in a Sunday afternoon after a bad lunch and it is raining outside and everybody, even the girls preferring to stay out of shopping complexes or any weekend outing spot, no thanks to the serial bombings rocking one city after the other. So what do you do? You download Laloo Yadav’s speech and Kill Bill Vol II from internet; you get glued to the TV, you chat with your friend who may be busy in fixing some book shelves and hence not much interested in chat, you listen Mallar singing the amazing song “shayad fir se janam me mulakaat ho na ho…” and you watch TV ads where Amitabh Bachchan is entering a girl’s body just to have some chocolates!!! And you think blogging is not a bad idea at all.

Amitabh Bachchan should go into the history of Indian blog industry for creating a mass awareness - if not popularity, at least inquisitiveness. So, starting from my granddad to my neighbor’s wife’s uncle showed some interest and asked me what this blog thing all about and asked how much they need to shell out to have one of their own. Do you see the consumer desire – the latent need, the buying stimulus? You can’t? Oh, you are not a consultant. Forget it.

In our consultants’ parlance he has commoditized a niche sector, just like what Dhirubhai did to the mobile or Bajaj did it to the automobiles. Most importantly, like all visionary businessmen I just mentioned he had taken care of both supply and the demand side. In the demand side, starting from yours truly to all those Page3 and lifestyle magazine reporters keep on browsing his blogs fifteen times a day. And the common man who visits cyber café once in a week to check e-mails also peep at AB’s blog. They can’t peep into his house; so this is as close as they can be to their Godfather!

In the supply side, he has inspired a new generation of content developers such as eminent bloggers Mr. Aamir Khan, Mr. Salman Khan and inspiring many more to come. I heard Rakhi Sawant Shows will be followed by Rakhi Sawant Blogs too where she will be asking her readers super smart intellectual questions like the audience question she asked yesterday. The question was “Who is Bebo’s mother”?
a) Babita
b) Papita
c) Parineeta.
But, ya you will have to wait till she comes with all her jazz. Till the time she comes you will have to be content with these uninteresting blogs like the one you are reading. And, ya, if you have more time, you can read the other blogs I just mentioned. All the old generation heroes turned new generation bloggers will definitely give you food for thought or at least add spices to it. And ya, you will have something to discuss in Monday lunch table to amuse others!

Festival of Lights

My mom says, the day I was born, it was the day of lights – “Deepavali” - to say correctly the evening of lights, when candles lit peoples’ houses, smiles their faces and the crackers brightened the sky. Even my mom, dad, annu - everybody was brimming with joy, their faces brighter than the thousand suns. I brought them the light. It was light all around me. So much so, that it filled me completely, it remained inside me for ever. You know, a new-born baby can’t see. Neither did me, at that moment. But not long after since, I saw the day of the light and my journey in this world of lights has begun.
My annu says I have the most beautiful eyes. She is not the only one. Even Tubai, my little brother (and also my enemy no. one in this house), also says so. I am proud of my prized possessions. Of course, only beautiful eyes can see the most beautiful sights. I know Tubai doesn’t believe me. But everybody else does – my mom, annu and probably you too. Believe me; I can see a lot of things that you can not see. I see the bright stars running from left to right, right to left, sometimes appearing as threads – threads of colorful beads, or sometime tiny fragment of cobwebs. Huh I don’t need Deepawali to see the lights’ play. I see them playing, running, hiding, bursting into glory – every day and night, every now and then. I know others envy me. I have sensed them sobbing silently sitting next to me. I feel bad. Isn’t there something that you can see and I can not?

I thought not; until yesterday, when Tubai came running to me and told how he saw an “anaar” burst in nine colors. He told me he had never seen anything prettier than that. It went up and up and up like a fountain of light, a fountain of gold, silver, diamonds and what not – in blue green red crimson pink and then burst like a tree of light. He is a kid. He can’t describe everything correctly. But still I am sure a moron like him cannot cook up something like this. Honestly I have never seen this. Though I told him I see that stuff every now and then. In fact I have seen it much bigger and better. But as usual, he called me a liar. I tried convincing him hard; I beat him hard for not believing me. But this time he was adamant. I said I didn’t care, went up to my room, locked my door, but from the time I heard this “Anaar” story I started feeling jealous.

My mom says set one special prayer aside for each birthday. God seems to listen to you when you earnestly wish something on your birthday. I have decided what I need to ask God today. I will ask Him to show me what Tubai saw yesterday for once. I am ready to promise I wont run away before finishing my milk, I wont cry when doctor uncle would examine my eyes next time, I would promise to wear those glasses that I hate to wear all the time. But please for once, I wanna be like everybody else – like Tubai, Mom and Annu and see how an anaar bursts into nine lights!!!

No hard feelings for sure

I suspected this long back.
But today it became so starkly vivid, for a moment, I was stunned, speechless, mesmerized. Even before untying the towel and entering the shower, I was naked - in front of the naked truth. The truth is not always so harsh. But when it becomes like this, you do not have many other options, but to smirk in Humphrey Bogart's cool loser style and say to yourself "Here's looking at you, kid"...

Before going into the details, let me share with you what exactly happened today morning. Had the above revelation not happened, or had I been on a brighter mood this morning, it could have been food for a boarding-school detective story. If you have spent a part of your early life in a school, away from your loving parents and caring sister, with a bunch of monkeys who are as good or bad as you, you know what I mean. (You know, people start investigating to find out who comes to the hostel everyday afternoon during the playtime and grab your potato chips and spoiling much more here and there. Or you know, they start behaving FBI agents to find out who always kidnaps the best piece of chicken from your bowl every Tuesday…) In such a situation the mere fact that everyday showers are becoming overhead taps one by one (Dorm Rep please take a note of it!) would definitely have given birth to a dozen of Sherlock Holmes Jr.s. But mind you, even though my present address is that of a hostel, my neighbors are quite different than my early comrades. They dress well, speak well, do not put their elbows on the dining table while dining or lunching, look at both sides of a road before crossing it, meticulously says “hi” to manicured, pedicured, curly hair, shaven legs counter parts, and ya, they know the purpose of their lives, and as Poirots and Holmes do not fit there, they peacefully ignore such trivial matters with the disdain only to be matched by that of great Vivian Richards towards English bowlers.

Well unlike many of my friends, of all genders, (I shouldn't name any of them here, because I don't wanna incur any animosity at this stage of my life ) I think taking bath is not a luxury but a necessity in my everyday life. And even if you argue with me that only the people who get themselves dirty everyday need to take bath everyday, I won’t buy it. I am a stubborn bull headed moron and it takes considerable time and effort to change how I see the world. SO as usual, I went to the shower before lunch and discovered the showers had turned waterfalls. The only other guy present at the bathroom at that point of time was one of my neighbors whom I chance to meet only in the washroom. To keep the records straight and for future records as well (You will get to know why I am saying so), he is the one whom I first met in my dorm when I first came here couple of months back. He was washing his face in the wash basin for quite a long time with great care. Thankfully there was another basin in the water closet and hence I didn’t have to wait for him to be finished, but I could not stop asking myself how a GUY takes so much time washing his face. I thought he was going to meet his girlfriend or someone close to that stratum. But subsequently my guess has been proven wrong , because I have seen him doing this at all hours of the day – whenever I visit the bathroom, either for toilet or shaving or what nots- he is there performing the ritual with even more care and meticulousness. Whether he has a girlfriend or not is out of present context, but even if there is one, I am sure she doesn’t wait for him for all the eerie hours of her life.

Okk, leave him aside. Where was I? Thankfully, I have not forgot. I was in the bathroom. After seeing that the showerheads were missing, naturally I expressed my amusement and he started laughing hysterically. Moron – what was so funny? In fact, this was the first time I saw him laughing. And believe me, laughing always make people look better. (So keep smiling, even when you are feeling like crying or howling-- after all life is a drama). After his laughing spree ended he informed me that the showerheads were missing since two days and the fact that I didn’t know that implied I skipped taking bath yesterday. I was not sure how to react. I always get angry when people say I don’t take bath. I surely did, yesterday. But another self of mine started questioning me how can I then forget that I experienced the same problem yesterday. Honestly I can’t remember even now. And believe me, a chill ran down my spine, similar to the ones when I get caught red handed for not reading the IGP cases or not solving the probability questions for the classes. But this was an even chiller, horrible feeling.

Is there any correlation between what happened today and that day’s incident when I was searching for my pen every nook and corner of my bag quite oblivious of the fact that I had just kept it in my pocket. Or is this the reason why I forget the deadlines many a time even after finishing what I am supposed to submit before the deadlines. Is it the reason why I spend almost one hour every day just to find out where I kept my specs or purse couple of minutes ago. (If you ask me why one hour, my answer would be: twenty times every day and three minutes for every lookup  ) . Or how I forget to call my dearests on their birthdays or some special occasions when from the days ago I start thinking what to say and how to say (;) - all these stuffs.

But luckily enough, I can remember what’s special with .1010010000000000000001….. or the fact that Euler fathered fifteen children or even the spelling of “antejentacular”, which even the great Khushdie couldn’t spell correctly… I can even remember vividly, more vividly than ever, how I used to enter the well-cordoned garden behind my hostel dining hall to collect ( read 'steal') guavas (ones with red seeds were my favorites), or how I first encountered THE stuff that I should not have encountered at such a early age or how I pinched my childhood love so hard for speaking something to my mom what she was not supposed to say that she cried aloud and kept on beating me for two minutes continuously (she was reprimanded enough, but this is not the place to describe all such nonsense affairs). Even though I am sure there is something wrong I am not sure what exactly is. And I am sure not everything is wrong. See, how optimistic I am! Its a quintessential diminuendo situation for my memory and me as a person. But do you know which kind of amnesia is it that you forget something which you remember minutes ago or just in the recent past? I do not have any answer. I could not put this among any of the amnesias I know about, like anterograde, dissociative, lacunar, psychogenic or global amnesia. Wow, I remember few psychological terms as well!!! Had I forgotten ALL these, I could not have written all these craps I am writing now and you would not have wasted such precise time of yours (there are so many good things in life to do like preparing for classes, interviews, or playing crosswords, or having dance lessons with your partners or at the very least, shopping XYZW whatever there is in the Shoppers’ Stop) than reading the crap just because a part of you knows me a little bit and probably cares a little bit too!!!! (After all, Berne says everybody has a lovable core! - I am no exception)

Hey don’t get senti dude. That's the last thing I would wish. If something happens to me, even if I die I would die with a shrug… No hard feelings for sure. ;)

WAC * - A Rhyme

Eyes bereft sleep
Hungry, missing lunch;
Report on my hand
Stapling the bunch...

Doors to close,
Clocks ticking
Last moment -
Changes making,

Handed the report
Just in time,
Life is dry,
Little rhyme...

I cursed the place,
Swore on me
Felt like fleeing
Reborn free

Came out of the class
Tired, Sour
And then I saw you
Standing there.

U smiled at me,
And I at u
For the 100th time,
Fell again for u.

"Happy n relieved?"
"Me thinks so,
How was yours"?
"I don't know".

"Did you catch a
Sleep last night?"
"No my dear,
The time was tight."

"Printer was out"
"So in my dorm"
"Tuchchis said
That is a norm"

--------
The talks went on
Call it chatters
Hunger, sleep
Nothing matters.


And how did I feel
At the end of the day?
IIMA is the best place
Nothing more to say...

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Disclaimer: Any resemblance with any real character is purely coincidental
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*What is WAC?
The most unique and interesting course in IIMA.Ppl love it.
They cherish the memory related to this course long after they leave.

We had a submission of this , yesterday afternoon.

Ask any WIMWIan ( me included ), in person, for more detail.

Nocturnal diary

Well, it’s 1:30. I just came back from the wash room. After applying cool water at my face already moistened with perspiration, my eyes longing for a sleep, the darkening circles haloing them and my soft nape which retains the coolness of the water for a relatively longer period (Like a lover caressing his love the water sent its cool shivery sensuous touch in every part of that softness), I am back to work with a renewed vigor.

And while writing the case analysis for Club Fed, putting myself under the mantle of a French-Moroccan, Jack Amazllag handling recruitment in US for a US subsidiary of a French company, I am trying to come up with the numerous possibilities that I am sure never occurred in Jack’s mind and not to occur in anybody’s mind who is/was/will be in Jack’s place, but only serve in getting me fair marks (hopefully) in this assignment which holds 1% weight for a 1 credit course I find its absolutely alright, if not necessary to take a little beak to talk to you and invite you to a short walk down the lanes of my earlier romances with night lives in my earlier days.

I remember my days in Hyderabad - coding, decoding, coding and occasionally breaking the code of the office in watching a movie in between, coding again, attempting to fit myself in a combination of a 4’ sofa and a chair in a recumbent position and waking up after sometime to get back to work. I remember my solitary walks through the Begumpet road at this point where the street dogs, couple of drooling police men, a number of women cleaning the streets(one of them flirting with a policeman) , few speeding vehicles, a languishing white ambassador looking for someone to buy for a night coexist altogether in different points of space and time, I pace up towards my residence at DK Road. The moon and stars give me company, the roads guide me , I knock at the door, I ring the bell once, twice, seems I m waiting for infinity, a drowsy voice responds after another ring or a missed call and opens the gate, I trudge myself to my bed and crash…

Not too long way back, there used to be half night outs like these, for nothing. There used to be night outs for fun. There used to be night outs over a “Tinku”, a bread-butter, a coffee toast, a round lawn in front of a building with a tower where the lights have never dimmed for fifty years with the exception of the blackout days of 1971 war between two brothers fighting for a disputed property. There used to be nights of plays, practices of the plays to be acted and the actual staging of the plays we are always taking part in this world -taking part simultaneously, sometimes coherently, rarely discordantly.

But u know, time changes, place changes, face changes, dream changes, inspiration changes. But night remains with its unallied enigmatic appeal --- Dunno why she appeals me so much…

Rang de Basanti - Prologue

There is an old adage saying, "Where there is a will there is a way." Probably that summarises how we got to watch the movie yday. As late as ever, when we reached SENSATION (one of my favourite theatres-it has nice sofa-seats ;) ) ticket counter was closed.Hundred odd ppl were wondering to manage a ticket by hook or crook.Even though v were pretty interested in watchin the movie on the first day we were clueless whom to approach, how to approach in this kind of situation.
'We' means we three-
1.Me .Was in a yellow shirt,black trousers, with a red bag on my back- was looking like an innocent school boy,

2.Jitin ,The happy prince - staring helplessly. In fact had he started ticket-hunting probably he would have bumped onto a police vehicle - so I didnt urge him to do much in this regard.

and

3. Richa .Undoubtely most determined of the lot , probably made it a mission of her life to watch the movie yday...Sometimes girls get so excited about such small cravings!! remember Preethi Zinta in "Salam Namaste"!

Whatever, we were almost on our way towards another theatre or a hang-out for couple of hours in tank bund when all of a sudden one angel, in disguise of a tall lean guy ,came before us and said "Three tickets, 100 rupees each?" I was shoving him away giving him a look like "kya re kya samajhta re tu humlogoko?" But then all of a sudden realized, this guy was not asking me for tickets but was selling it to me. Before I realized and acted I saw this guy was surrounded by seven -eight ppl, everybody stronger than amyone of us,putting his case forward in most vehement way, holding out a 100 rupee note!! The demand-supply curve was so skew at that point the 60/- ticket could easily be sold at 160/-.But the generous angels , particularly generous at us, gave those three priceless pieces of paper to us (In between, Jitin tried to make a small burgain -- 90,instead of 100 -- but the angels, when appear in human form, are bound by certain limits as far as showering generosities are concerned.So they didn't agree.) ignoring other lesser mortals…U know Gods, and also the angels, must be crazy.I didn't know what they find in us. Probably we were the youngest and weakest of those and so out of sympathy big Dad lent his first helping hand to us!!Whatever, we won the first hurdle.

Had this been the story, I wouldn't have written it.

Even though we were 3 in number, we needed four tickets. Before u suspect anything, Richa is extremely petite. Me is termed "underweight" and Jitin,by no sense of term can not be classified as obese. Actually the fourth member of our gang was yet to come. Before you start mouthing vituperatives to Ashish let me tell u he has been through this a lot of time. He is most experienced in this matter, and he made his presence felt enormously by his absence which was due to some unavoidable professional circumstances (to put it in best words). Had he been there we would have got the tickets with less commotion and this story would have never seen the day of the light.So let's not digress from the topic. Let's see how we got the other ticket.

The angels(Two of them) , who were vanished after bestowing upon us three boons, reappeared again when they saw us in trouble. That’s why they are called angels...When we told them the deadlock situation one of them tried to contact the God, who supposedly gave the tickets to him. Believe me he tried desparately. We- angel the guide , followed by Richa, Jitin and myself in that order (maintaining a safe distance between each of us so that nobody get lost and nobody is suspected), tried to find in every nook and corner of God's earthly adobe named SENSATION and its neighbourhood named SUNSHINE, but could not find him. There were ppl coming out, going in - they were all in rush and we three frail figures were bumped and shoved and nudged.But our persevernce was exemplary.The door keepers , posted at different entrances and exits were asked a number of times about God's whereabouts. They could not help. Even the portly valet-butler - with a police lathi in his hand - did not entertain our queries. The Angel tried to call the God, but probably he didn't want to get disturbed by earthly calls , so he kept his cellphone off. We were almost hopeless. I went around the premises to look for a guy who looks like an angel who could give another ticket. I approached a few. Most of them gave me a stare and a few showered blessings/curses on me. It did not matter much because I did not understand the angels' mother-tongue (in which they normally bless/curse u). I also looked at the queue outside the gate and thought 3 among these would be lucky enough when we would sell them our tickets.

At this point of time, came Ashish. When we helplessly told him the episode he told us in most chivalrous tone, "As u have got three tickets with so much effort u watch it. I was doing some serious work.Its unfinished.And I am going to finish it." Stating this, he started his journey towards the exit of the heaven. Now good friends as we are, however good movie it is we can not watch a movie leaving one of our friends, simply because there is a dearth of tickets.Yes, we are loyal to Bollywood.We watch "Ek se badkar ek" to "Swadesh" with equal passion on first nite show, sometimes get into trouble with police for this. But we are more loyal to friends. So we dissuaded Ashish , told him and convinced ourselves there are " n number of better ways" to spend the night even without watching the movie.And hence we planned to sell off the tickets. Watching the long queue outside I started calculating which price should I quote to get maximum return-120?130? or 150? After all, I lost more than 2 grands day before yday in share mkt!!!

Richa, the most determined among us, pleaded to the angel for the final time,cannot u find another angel for us in the absence of God!And the angel, gave the most prudent advice. He asked her to approach the valet-butler of the Eden - the portly person with a police lathi right in front of the parking area controlling the cars with great authority. He must have seen her for half an hour looking for a ticket desparately.And when Richa approached him with almost tears in her eyes (believe me she did not apply glycerine) he briefly told "130"! Wo , there was a ticket. I was ready to pay 200 for it. We toiled for it so long.And finally our effiort has been productive! But I controlled my emotion and asked Richa to urge him to come down to 100. There was a little bit of arguments, both were muttering , so I could not hear , and cannot tell you!!!And what a wonder a pretty face can do! The guy vanished behind a car and appeared with a 16 fold yellow paper in his hand.(God knows where he kept it.). And he was satisfied with 100/- of course with a little bit of grudges…

Hoooooffffffffff!!!!

We started looking for the angels who helped us so much in our pursuit.We thaked them again. Again and again. We thanked the valet-butler . With fourt tickets (so hard earned) we were on cloud number 9.

When we were coming out to have a light refreshment before the movie Richa told secretly:" u know I have seen where the magic tickets are hidden.And that means next movie onwards we don't need any favour from the angels.In fact we could be angels to someone as well." I have great faith on her.Hopefully u will listen about that story at a later time, till then good bye.

O, how was the movie? I will tell u shortly!

A game, a result, multiple speculations, a revelation

I got a BIG lesson in life:"never take a girl lightly."

Not that girls (these days especially) are heavy -- and you should take extra care in taking one in your arms.. Not that they are owls -- they can't see beyond darkness.. Then what inspires me to say so??Because in one of the stunning setback to my progress in my Office TT tournament I lost to the sole girl participant in the tournamnet.

Not that she is junior A.P girls' champ, not that I am totally "dhasoo" in TT (I still have enough belief in my TT prowess) ..In fact she is a newcomer..I have been playing it for quite sometime and in the last tournament I took part I stood 3rd (Not out of 3, if that comes to ur mind). Still I lost the game yesterday.

God knows what came in my mind.. Compassion?Complacancy?Condescence?Ya extreme machismo that lures one to show extra care for them even when it is totally unnecessary!!!! I dunno.. She played well,much better than me.. In fact she played a faultless game, waited for me to err and I was entrapped.. This is the strategy I often take while playing against much fancied opponent and more often than not it pays dividend. And now she demolished me with my own weapon..

All praise for her.. She struck to the basics too well -- kept the ball on the table and played with a solid defence. But was it tested properly? I boast myself of quite a number of good serves that put many a opponent to a bit trouble..But how may serves of that sort I did yesterday?? -- one, I guess.. Instead of playing my game I tried to play her game and I lost it!!!!

And you know I live in a male chauvinistic society and a guy losing to a gal heads for many a speculation. One of my close friends threatened me before the match "if you lose this I won't talk to yoy." Another well wisher asked me to get myself drowned. But you know I stay in a place which is infamous for its water shortage .. So he changed his mind and asked "kuud ja balcony se"..

And of course speculations came.. If you think I was thinking of writing a blog next day titled "A game lost, a heart won" - absolutely wrong. If you think bla bla bla that I cannot write then also you are wrong.. Just that I took her little bit easily initially. After losing the first set the MCP inside me ( I didn't know it exists there so profoundly!!!) got psyched and too many unforced error -- too many attempts to play elegant rather than effective game -- ruined me...

Enough self criticism..

Some optimistic view :-) :

Firstly ,

it triggered alarm to wake me up from my hiberantion from blogworld for quite sometime.... It has been long I have written here.. SO many things happened -- some big; some not too big.. Some that could have been shared -- some that couldn't --- But all the same I was not finding a big impetus to write blog on one of them... The thing that came into my mind just after losing the match is writing this blog. Sounds crazy,eh? Ya, I am crazy.. I can't help it..

Secondly,

Got a big lesson. NEVER take a girl lightly . Of course not in your private life -- (I knew it earlier -I shouldn't get much into it as they say discretion is better part of valor), not even in games....